


Loved

by Rauchendes_GNU



Series: Forgiven [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cas and Dean are in love, Comfort, Cuddling, Dean Winchester Talks About Feelings, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, Hurt, Hurt Castiel, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, POV Dean Winchester, fluff i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rauchendes_GNU/pseuds/Rauchendes_GNU
Summary: Next to him Cas is sleeping, turned away from Dean. He just needs to reach for him to touch his back although he can’t see Cas, just sense his presence. In times like this Dean is glad the light is turned off. Otherwise the white bandages would remind him of the angry red scars on his boyfriend’s back beneath the band-aids, of how he failed Cas. Again.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Forgiven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056227
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I had this idea hanging around in my head for quite some time now, so I decided to write it down.  
> If you haven't read the first part of this story, pay it a visit [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439642).
> 
> That's it already. All mistakes are mine, if there's anything, let me know.
> 
> Enjoy, GNU

The moon would be shining upon them if there were windows in the room. But as the bunker is below the ground, savely buried inside it, the bedroom is dark. Dean doesn’t really mind. He lies on his back, hands crossed behind his head and watches the ceiling. Next to him Cas is sleeping, turned away from Dean. He just needs to reach for him to touch his back although he can’t see Cas, just sense his presence. In times like this Dean is glad the light is turned off. Otherwise the white bandages would remind him of the angry red scars on his boyfriend’s back beneath the band-aids, of how he failed Cas. Again.

It’s their first night back at home, the first night Cas doesn’t have to spend in a thin hospital gown, shivering because he’s never felt cold before, hooked up to machines that whir quietly, making a beeping noise every now and then. It’s the first night that Dean allows himself to lie down, not to sleep, though. He can’t afford sleep right now in case Cas needs him.

He’s spent the last week at the hospital, keeping an eye on Cas. Even after visiting hours he kept coming back, because what’s a history in B&E there for if not breaking into the hospital to take care of your former-angel-now-human boyfriend.

Dean smiles at that. Boyfriend. Cas is his boyfriend. He’s never had a boyfriend before. He’s never met anyone before that he is drawn to the way he’s drawn to Cas. There had been Cassie, of course, and Lisa. But they just weren’t Cas. Dean doesn’t know how else to explain it. It’s Cas he wants. Only Cas. Dean doesn’t like to think about what exactly that is suggesting.

Every now and then when the nurses weren’t looking Dean would turn to Cas and place a kiss on those chapped lips because they really are very kissable. It has quickly turned into one of Dean’s favorite things, kissing Cas and eating pie.

Speaking of pie, Dean thinks and remembers the first time Cas had felt real hunger. That content little smile when the last bite of burger had finally disappeared in his mouth, his grin when Dean flushed the hospital food so nobody would grow suspicous. The laugh when Dean made a remark about it and the following groan in pain. Dean tries not to think about the clear picture of agony on Cas’ face.

He feels Cas stirring beside him, moving slightly in his sleep. The bandages and the pain should keep him from moving onto his back. Dean’s given him some more painkillers before sleep but that was several hours ago. Cas’ movements become more frantic, he’s throwing his head back and before Dean register what’s going on a hand hits his stomach.

He’s still trying to catch his breath, inhale, hold, exhale, repeat. The stars are slowly disappearing from his view as the pain decreases into a little throb.

“No! I don’t… I’m sorry! Please!”

Cas is lashing out now and Dean is on his knees, trying to wake him from his nightmare and keep him from hurting himself. He gets hit in the face twice despite his fighting skills.

“Cas! Wake up!”

“Let me go, please, no!”

Dean is straddling the ex-angel now but there’s nothing erotic about it.

“Wake up, Cas, it’s me.”

His eyes open wide, darting around unfocused, trying to find something, anything to hold on to.

“Hey, angel, it’s me.”

Cas stops fighting, hands sinking back onto the mattress as if a puppeteer gone crazy has suddenly lost his interest in playing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers not meeting Dean’s eye.

“It’s okay,” Dean replies in what he hopes is a soothing voice. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

He rolls off him and turns to thread his arms around Cas’ waist, lifting the weight off his injured back.

Cas curls into his embrace, seeking Dean’s warmth and strength. Dean holds him, mumbling nonsense to calm him down, his thumb rubbing little circles onto Cas’ back. His tears are wetting Dean’s pajamas but that’s the least of his problems. It’s not Cas’ first nightmare but they’ve become more frequent, more violent, they hurt Cas in ways that almost make Dean cry. He would do anything to take that pain away from Cas. Literally anything.

Even after Cas stops crying they stay in that position. Castiel’s head tucked under Dean’s chin, nuzzling his neck, his back bare except for the bandages that hide the wounds his wings have left. Dean’s hands holding him stable so Cas doesn’t feel uncomfortable. His slow, steady breath telling Dean that he’s gone back to sleep.

The next day comes and Dean feels like a wreck. He doesn’t know how late it is because his watch is still broken and Sam’s got his alarm clock. His cheek hurts from where Cas has punched him and he hasn’t slept in a week now, only having had little naps of half an hour if possible but nothing more. He’s hungry and exhausted and more than worried.

Castiel stirs and winces and that’s when Dean realizes he’s waking up.

“Easy there, angel, don’t go too fast.”

He steadies Cas and waits for him to sit up before moving into a sitting position himself. Castiel doesn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asks although he already knows the answer.

“Nothing,” Cas says and points his chin at Dean’s black eye.

“I apologize for causing that.”

He gets up without another word and walks to the bathroom, leaving Dean puzzled and disappointed.

He knows Cas is avoiding him, for the first time since he’s turned human. It makes Dean’s heart ache and he wants to reach out so desperately to touch him, to let him know that he’s there and will listen to him although he doesn’t know how to talk about feelings. For Cas he wants to try.

But instead of Cas he meets his brother who’s brooding over thick books reading ancient notes about angels and demons, tablets and prophets. The angel tablet is savely hidden in the depths of the bunker, a promise Sammy has given to Cas.

“You seen Cas?”

Sam looks up and meets Dean’s eyes, slowly shaking his head.

“No, ‘m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s good.”

Sam looks at him silently and Dean almost flinches under his scrutinizing gaze.

“How are you, Dean?”

“Fine.”

His little brother sighs deeply before arguing back.

“No, you’re not. When’s the last time you slept?”

Dean tries to remember. Was is Tuesday? Or Wednesday? The last days are becoming kind of blurry.

“You should get some shut-eye.”

“I’m good.”

“Dean...”

Dean huffs. “Just leave it, Sam.”  
His brother doesn’t say anything else.

“Something on the Angel rock?”

Sam shakes his head.

“Nothing. But I’ve been abe to reach Kevin. He agrees that we should keep it save until he can come and translate it for us.”

“Good. Missin’ the kid.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You had breakfast already?”

Sam denies.

“Fried eggs and bacon sound good?”

“It’s almost time for dinner, but sure.”

Dean does find Cas half an hour later. He’s got some coffee and breakfast saved up for him and scans the bunker until he finds Cas sitting in their weaponry, looking at Dean’s spare gun.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I’m useless.”

Dean sets the tray down next to the cabinet with the machetes and crouches down next to his boyfriend.

“No, you’re not.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. You owe me the truth. How I am useless. A mess. I can’t fight, I can’t do research and you yourself said I sucked at hunting. So don’t tell me I matter when I don’t.”

“C’mere.”  
“I don’t need your pity, Dean.”

Dean’s hand bounces back as if he’s been burnt. He tries to ban the hurt look from his eyes before Cas sees it but he’s too late, believing the look that Cas’ eyes give him.

“Dean, I’m ...”

“No. No, I understand. I got you breakfast.”

He stands and goes, willing himself not to be too disappointed because, of course Cas doesn’t care about him like that, of course he doesn’t love him back. Not the way Dean loves Cas. But the rejection still hurts.

It does make sense, though. He’s the one who broke the First Seal. He’s the one who brought the apocalypse over everybody, the one who isn’t even capable of saving his own family. Sam gives him a funny look but Dean ignores him and heads out, intending to find a bar and get wasted.

He does find the bar and he does drink some booze but before he can get really drunk his phone is buzzing in his pocket. Dean knows it’ll probably be just Sam but he rejects the call anyway. He ignores the ladies that try to chat him up, doesn’t even appreciate their eyes raking over him because he really doesn’t care.

The women give up eventually, leaving him just with the grumpy barkeeper and the alcohol.

Sam really doesn’t give up, though. After another three calls Dean knows he won’t let him off the hook so easily and knowing that he’ll bother him the whole night he accepts the call.

It’s not Sam, though.

“Dean?”

“Cas?”

Dean doesn’t even try to hide his surprise and longing.

“Yes. I … think I reacted inappropriately.”

His heart is pounding in his chest and Dean tries not to be hopeful. He really tries because probably Cas will tell him now to stay away and that he should’ve never let him come so close. He‘ll tell Dean he realized that he doesn’t want somebody like him around and that he’s better off without him. Which is technically correct but doesn’t mean Dean must like it.

“I was feeling very low of myself and it was not my right to assume that you think the same about me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Could you please come home? I – I miss you.“

The last bit is so quiet that Dean has trouble understanding it.

“Dean?”

Dean has died. He has died because Cas is there on Sam’s phone talking to him and asking him to come back. He has died because, maybe, Cas doesn’t hate him, for what reason ever. He’s so full of feelings, almost exploding with them like when he was fifteen and got his first kiss.

But all he manages to say is: “Yeah?”

“Say something, please.”

Dean hates himself for causing Cas’ voice to waver.

“Gimme ten.”

He makes it back to the bunker in eight minutes. He knows he shouldn’t drive so carelessly because, yes, he’s had alcohol and yes, he’s driving but he doesn’t intend to wrap his beloved car around a tree and he’s got experience with being not entirely sober and driving. It’s no surprise that he’s a master in driving. He’s the best. And Cas doesn’t hate him which actually makes Cas the best. He’s just second. But that’s cool because he hasn’t been second in a long time and it makes him happy.

“Dean!”

He goes straight for the hug because, chick-flicks be damned, they had a fight – was it a fight, though? – and they’re just making up and it’s dark outside which makes it romantic, sort of.

Cas smells good, so good. Dean can’t describe what Cas smells like because he doesn’t know, he just smells like, well, Cas.

“I’m sorry, angel."

They’re sitting on Dean’s bed watching Indiana Jones because it’s a good movie and Cas hasn’t seen it yet. Dean knows it by heart and that’s good because he’s spending more time watching Cas than actually paying attention to the story on-screen. The way he tilts his head and knits his eyebrows is so much more interesting than Harrison Ford right now, even if that’s the really cool scene with the ants eating the soldier.

“Dean, why is he doing that? I thought he’s a teacher.”

“Part time, Cas.”

Cas doesn’t get the joke but that’s okay because his confusion grows and is just fucking adorable.

“I don’t underst – ”

He cuts himself off with a hiss. Dean is alert, looking for injuries on Cas before eyeing the bandages on Cas’ back warily.

“Did you let Sam change your band-aids?”

Castiel shakes his head quietly, ashamed.

“Dammit, Cas.”

Dean gets some band-aids and washcloth as well as warm water, then instructs Cas to sit between his knees.

“Why didn’t you let Sam help you?”

Cas’ response is so muffled and quiet that he has to repeat it for Dean.

“I didn’t want anyone to touch it. It’s still… sensitive.”

Dean places a soft kiss on Cas’ neck.

“Sorry, angel.”

“Dean, you know I’m not an angel anymore. Stop calling me that. It hurts.”

Dean smiles fondly while carefully taking off the bandages and gently cleaning the wound before adding ointment and wrapping them up with new band-aids.

“It’s a nickname, ya know.”

Cas turns around and watches Dean in confusion.

“Angel, I mean. It doesn’t mean your… race, just your personality. Shit, Cas, I’m bad at explaining my feelings.”

“Dean...”

“I call you angel because you’re such a good person that even as a human you are… angelic.”

Dean hides away from his own cringiness. A rough, calloused hand caresses his cheek and turns his face to look at him.

“Thank you, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, that's it for now. I always appreciate comments and kudos, so leave one of them (or both).  
> I do have an idea for a third part involving more fluff and less angsty hurt stuff (but kissing).  
> Lemme know what ya think.
> 
> Seeya, GNU


End file.
